


Spill Your Guts

by ASmallLizard



Series: Is This What You Call a Family? [1]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Fun Ghoul is a kleptomaniac, Gen, Jet Star is a single mother, Jet Star is very empathetic, Kobra and Ghoul are besties, Party Poison (Danger Days) Is A Dick, Party Poison has trust issues, Party trusts Jet, four problematic teens, if you think brotherly love is incest GET OUT, kobra kid is a shy little brother, origins are discussed, party poison loves his brother, sharing circle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:14:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25118215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASmallLizard/pseuds/ASmallLizard
Summary: In which a sharing circle goes horribly wrong.
Relationships: Fun Ghoul & Jet Star & Kobra Kid & Party Poison (Danger Days), Fun Ghoul & Kobra Kid (Danger Days), Jet Star & Party Poison (Danger Days), Kobra Kid & Party Poison (Danger Days)
Series: Is This What You Call a Family? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861591
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Spill Your Guts

**Author's Note:**

> First Danger Days oneshot!! I'd like to do more, I have a few ideas planned, but we'll see how it goes. 
> 
> This takes place before they take in the Girl, roughly a few months after they all meet. They're all teenagers, Jet being the oldest and Kobra is the youngest. And Kobra's pin is from the US Air Force. 
> 
> Enjoy!

"Thank you all for coming today."

The Fabulous Killjoys sat around in a lumpy circle around the diner, and everyone was glaring at Jet Star.

"It's not like we had much of a choice," Party grumbled, leaning against the counter that ran parallel with the booths against the window. "You hid the keys to the Am and said you'd use 'em to break the jukebox if we didn't." 

Jet paid Party's comment no mind. "Allow me to explain how this will work." He gestured to the circle made by the four of them. "We're gonna take turns sharing how we're feeling about our crew. Any problems we have are gonna get laid out, and the rest of us will try to make things right."

"Can't we just play cards or somethin' instead?" asked Fun Ghoul, who sat on top of a table in one of the booths. 

Party shook his head. "Yeah, I'm not doing this. There's a huge party going on in Zone 2 tonight, and I'm not missing it to play Truth or Dare. Kobra, let's go." He jerked his head at Kobra Kid, beckoning him to follow. Kobra, of course, did so, and he rose from his spot in a booth to join his brother in striding across the diner floor.

"Where do you think you're going?" demanded Jet. "I still have the keys, remember?"

"There's only, like, three places he'd hide 'em," Party said to Kobra, ignoring Jet completely. "You look in the junk drawer, and I'll look under his mattress." 

The brothers split up at once, and Jet didn't know who to chase after first. Soon everyone was on their feet, and Jet was trying and failing to corral the Venom Brothers back to their seats. In the chaos he heard the jingle of metal, which made everyone freeze. When they all turned around, there was Ghoul, smugly swinging the keys on his finger.

"Hey!" shouted Party. "Where'd you find those?"

"In the _third_ place Jet would hide the keys," Ghoul said with a smirk. "His jacket pocket! Duh!"

Jet felt a tingly chill shoot down his spine. He had indeed been hiding the keys in his jacket pocket. But he had never heard Ghoul even come close to him, let along stick a hand inside his jacket and pull the keys out. 

"C'mon, Ghoul, gimme the keys," said Party. 

But Ghoul lazily tossed them from hand to hand, looking quite satisfied with the turn of events. "And why should I? You were gonna ditch _us._ Now _you're_ the one who gets to cuddle with Jet while _I_ go have fun! Later, suckers!"

And he bolted for the door. The _children_ behind him were all protesting, and Ghoul grinned like a coyote as he bolted for the Trans Am. Jet really felt like the babysitter of the group, maybe even the only adult in Zone 3. Why was he even trying so hard? If they wanted to fall apart, he might as well let them.

Only there was one problem.

He couldn't. 

"What if I get you guys Batt Food?" 

At those last two words, Fun Ghoul, about to vault himself over the Trans Am door and into the front seat, dropped back to the ground.

"Whaddya mean?" asked Party. He put his hands on his hips and eyed Jet skeptically. Jet resisted the urge to smile with triumph. He knew if anything would get Party's attention, it was that tantalizing offer. 

"You guys share what's on your mind for, like, an hour, and I'll make sure we have a Batt food dinner sometime this week."

Their eyes grew round and shiny at the prospect of real food- not the disgusting Power Pup slop they lived on day to day. Getting food from Battery City was a hell of a task, but these guys loved to eat, and Jet knew they would do just about anything for a decent meal. 

Finally, Party muttered, "Fine. Let's get this over with," and without another word, he headed inside with Ghoul and Kobra following. Jet skittered behind his crew, both pleased that his plan was back on and filled with dread at the task of acquiring Batt food ahead of him. 

Back inside the diner, everyone took seats in the booths and at the counter. Jet returned to his spot against the wall and looked over his pack of feral dogs. 

"So, who would like to go first?" 

A collective silence met him in response. 

Jet fought back a sigh and wondered if he would have to do all of this himself. "Fine, _I'll_ go first. Party, I think you could put a little more into this crew."

Party's head snapped up at his name being called out, and he bristled defensively. "What're you talkin' about, Star?"

Jet kept his head level and went on. In the short few months he had known Party, this question started to burn inside of him. But he knew it had to be worded properly if he was to get a good response. "I mean, you spend most of your time out at concerts or parties. Which is fine, but we're supposed to be a crew. If we're going to work together on the battlefield, we need to trust each other here. And that only comes from getting to know one another."

Party made a stink face- he was the undisputed champion of those. "We're _not_ a crew! We're just... some guys who all hate Korse and need a roof over our heads. And b'sides, I saved _your_ ass in that clap the other day, didn't I? I'd say we're doin' just fine." 

After Party spoke, a snicker could be heard. Ghoul was in the booth, his back against the window and his knees on the seat with a devilish smirk on his face.

"Got a problem, Ghoul?" barked Party. "Don't keep us waiting, just say it." 

Ghoul let out a chuckle under his breath before saying, "Just think it's funny how shootin' a Drac while Jet's back was turned counts as 'fine'. Yer some real hero, ain'tcha?"

"A whole lot more than you are!" Party retorted.

Jet resisted the urge to bring his hands to his face and groan. Party and Ghoul couldn't seem to go five minutes without getting at each other's throats. It was always the same: Ghoul would make some snarky, unnecessary dig at Party, and Party, never one to let things go, would shoot back at him. 

"Yeah, you really are, Party," Ghoul said with a sneer. "Don' think anyone else in the Zones could live the way you do and keep standin'. People could learn a lot from you- hell, I bet Kobra learns a ton every time you take 'im out! Gonna end up just like 'is brother, huh?"

Party gave another one of his signature stink faces. "Don't talk to me 'till you take a bath or somethin'. Least I don't have to worry about him smelling like dead rats when he hangs around me." 

"Oh, yer so right!" Ghoul exclaimed with false surprise. "Gotta wash this stink off me. I smell like whisky cuz I was wasted as hell last night, just like _every_ night- oh wait! That's you, ain't it? Yeah, that's Party Poison- the Fabulous Killjoy!"

There was not even a pause after the words came out that Party shot across the room and threw his hands on Ghoul's jacket collar. "Keep talkin', you scrawny little bitch," he snarled through gritted teeth, his nose only millimeters away from Ghoul's. "I dare you."

"Or what?" Ghoul retorted. He knew Party could snap him in half if he wanted, but his eyes were bright with a feral gleam. "You gonna blow chunks all over me? You call yerself a hero, but yer the only one you think about. So gimme yer best shot, I don't care! That's what _you_ wanna do anyway!"

Party took the bait. Hooking his legs off the ground with his foot, he threw Ghoul to the floor, his back slamming against the faded tile with a disgusting force. 

"Knew runnin' with you idiots'd be a mistake," Party growled, glaring down at Ghoul, who was still writhing on the floor. Even so, Ghoul wasn't beaten enough to not spit in Party's face as he reached down and yanked the Trans Am keys from the pocket of his jacket. Turning to his brother, he said, "Let's get outta here, Kobra."

Kobra flinched when Party spoke his name. He knew Party meant they were leaving permanently. His wide eyes flittered from Ghoul to Party and back again, and at last he murmured, "Can I grab my stuff first?"

Party opened his mouth to speak, but instead decided on lolling his head back with a groan. "Fine. Grab your stuff, and then we're out." 

Kobra slinked to the back of the diner and through the door that lead to his and Party's bunk. Not a sound could be heard except for Ghoul's grunts of discomfort as he hauled himself to a sitting position. Jet felt helpless as he watched this all play out, and instantly his mind moved in a million different directions. The only problem was he didn't know which direction to move in. Did he help Ghoul to his feet and see if he was okay? Did he try to convince Party to stay, or throw him out by his ears? Or did he check on poor Kobra, who seemed to have curled in on himself? Every choice felt right, but he couldn't do them all at once. And it seemed that all of his attempts to "help" only made things worse anyway. 

"Forget it!" 

At the sound of Jet's yell, everyone turned to look at him. He didn't raise his voice often, but when he did, he caught the attention of every member of the crew. 

"I'm sorry I dragged you guys into this. Just forget it every happened."

And he retreated before he could see their expressions. Leaving his friends and sense of duty behind him, he disappeared to his bunk. It had likely been a janitor's closet when their hideout was being used as a diner. The only light that came in was through the small sliver of a window just below the ceiling. It was dark and small, but the air was cool and it was a good place to think, and that was why Jet liked it. Laying down on his back, he stared up at the single beam of early evening sunlight over his head and sighed in defeat. 

He didn't understand why he always took it upon himself to take care of the people around him. He supposed he was just hoping this time, this group of people, would be different. But he was too damn empathetic, and empathy couldn't survive in the Zones. If they wanted to tear themselves apart, he might as well let them. He would return later and pick up whatever pieces were left in the aftermath. 

In the main area of the diner, Party was pacing by the door, shaking his head with impatience as he waited for his brother to return. "Kobra, if you don't hurry up I'm leavin' without you!" he bellowed. 

The raspy, strained voice of Ghoul came up from the floor. "Y'ever think..." he started, "...think maybe the kid doesn't wanna leave?" 

Party shot him a withering look. "What're you talking about? Course he does! Right, kid?"

They all looked up to see Kobra lingering in the back of the room. Slung over his shoulder was a faded black backpack- the same backpack he had carried his life in when he and Party had escaped the city together. There was a stunned panic across his face. Clearly, he was unsure of how to respond to the eyes on him- specifically, the eyes of his big brother. 

"Right, kid?" Party repeated expectantly. 

Kobra's eyes dropped to the floor, and he squeezed the backpack strap over his shoulder. He stared at the floor in deep concentration, his jaw working as he tried to decide on what to say- and if he should say anything at all. His voice came out so low, so suddenly, that if they weren't paying attention they would have missed it.

"You didn't really ask me."

The silence that followed was painful. Even more painful was the way Party quickly broke it, quirking his brow and demanding, "Whaddya mean?"

Feeling slightly braver now, Kobra kept his head up as he spoke. "I mean you _never_ ask me what I wanna do."

Party's face scrunched up at this, as if he was the only one of them who hadn't realized this truth already. Which he was. "I always ask you stuff!"

Kobra merely gave a small shake of his head, but it said enough. 

Frustrated now, Party threw out his arm in an exaggerated gesture. "Well, then, what do _you_ wanna do?"

"I wanna stay here," Kobra said. "If we leave, we're gonna be all alone again."

"We're all alone already, Kobra!" Party shot back. "We're the only crew we need."

Most painful of all was that Kobra winced- _winced_ \- at Party's words. "It doesn't have to be that way anymore," he murmured. And without another word, he walked over to Ghoul and crouched beside him. In hushed, gentle words, he asked Ghoul if he was okay and helped him to his feet. Only when Ghoul was seated in a booth did Party stop gaping and speak again. 

"He's gonna rob you blind," he said between clenched teeth. He didn't look at Ghoul but jabbed an accusing finger at him with each word. "I'd be surprised if he didn't take any of your stuff already."

Ghoul opened his mouth to speak, but Kobra was faster. "Well, I trust him."

Simple words, but they carried an electricity that shocked both Party and Ghoul. 

Without warning, Ghoul rose from his seat and treaded off to his bunk. He clutched his back with one hand as he walked, but he seemed to be moving more easily now. Hissing under his breath, Party asked Kobra, "When were you gonna tell me all this?"

Kobra shrugged. "Were you ever gonna ask me?" 

For once, Party was rendered speechless. Thankfully for him, he didn't have to gape at Kobra wordlessly for long, because with a clatter and a stumble, Ghoul reappeared. His head was hung low as he trudged back to the booth and placed a small, shiny object on the table in front of Kobra. Both Party and Kobra recognized it immediately. How could they not recognize the pin Kobra had carried with him all the way from Battery City?

Ghoul didn't provide an explanation. He merely kept his eyes to the ground and mumbled a pathetic, "Sorry." 

Gingerly, Kobra fingered the pin. Even from his distance, Party knew exactly what it looked like- blue diamonds and triangles built around a silver star, rising from it like wings. Party knew every dink and scratch on its surface, how every groove felt between his fingers. That little pin had belonged to their grandfather. It came from a time before the Analog Wars, a symbol for those who flew planes beyond the city, fighting evil and bringing peace all over the world. There were no planes anymore, but it was this story, this pin, this idea of freedom that lit the spark of resilience in the Venom Brothers. It was this pin that Party had fixed to Kobra's shirt, imploring him to be brave that night as they escaped Battery City and set out for a life of freedom in the zones. 

"Why did you take this?" It was not an accusation but a simple question from Kobra. 

At first, Ghoul only shrugged. He looked like a child who had been caught red-handed, and this was a side of Ghoul none of the Killjoys had never seen before. "It was shiny," he answered with a hollow chuckle. 

Party found himself shaking with an anger he couldn't hold back. "That's- that's all you have to say for yourself? You just took it because _why not?_ "

Ghoul flinched at Party's words, but he didn't back down. Growing defensive, he snapped, "'S not like I _wanted_ to take it!" 

"Then why'd you do it?"

"Because I couldn't _not_ take it!" A silence struck Ghoul for a moment and the rest of the room for a moment before he gave a sheepish sniff and mumbled forward, "I'm good at stealin'. Too good at stealin'. Had to be, if I wanted t' survive. First it was just stuff I needed like food, but... I dunno. Guess years of never havin' enough got me sick of it." He rubbed his nose. "When I see somethin' shiny, somethin' I like... I take it. I can't stop myself, I just _take it._ M'sorry, Kobra." 

For the first time since being handed the stolen pin, Kobra lifted his eyes to meet Ghoul's. "I don't think this thing's worth a lot of carbons."

Ghoul nodded solemnly. "I know."

The room was quiet as everyone took this all in. In the past, Ghoul had come home with food and medicine when they had desperately needed it, and he was famous for his surprises. Jet and Kobra appreciated the shaving razors and sunglasses he would gift them with from time to time, and even Party had to admit that time he came home with a bottle of neon blue spray paint was pretty awesome. 

He never said where he got those things, just that he "picked them up while he was out" or that he "just found them lying around." But suddenly they had an explanation, as well as the hoard of trinkets and random junk that crowded his room. Uneasily it settled into everyone that the belongings they treasured could end up in that pile someday- if they weren't there already. 

"I get it, none of ya wanna live with a thief," Ghoul said with a wave of his hands. "I don't blame ya. Prolly best if I head out too."

He played it cool, but his voice was thick. It was a surprise to no one that Party was itching to move on, but Ghoul seemed to have embraced this foursome before anyone else did. Right away, he had treated them all like they were his best friends. He had a habit of following a person around the diner if he was looking for company and would chatter on and on if they gave it to him. They could have easily been the first friends Ghoul ever had. No one knew where Ghoul had been before running with them, and it was an even bigger mystery where he would end up without them. Where any of them would end up after leaving those diner doors was a mystery. 

"Guess that's it, then," Party said lowly. 

"That's the end of the Killjoys," Kobra said his head down. 

"The _Fabulous_ Killjoys," Ghoul corrected. "That's what the Zoners call us. Like we're superheroes or somethin'."

"We'll still be the Killjoys even if we split up," Party said, though he sounded doubtful. Ghoul and Kobra looked like they believed Party's words as much as Party sounded like he did. 

"Who's gonna tell Jet?" Kobra finally piped up, frowning.

Jet... who was going to tell their worrisome den mother? This little feelings exchange hadn't gone the way he had planned at all. 

"He'll be fine," Party said with the wave of his hand. "We'll finally be outta his hair. He'll be happy we're hittin' the road."

Another sentence nobody believed. 

"I dunno, it was kinda nice," Ghoul said.

"What, shootin' up Dracs and breakin' every rule the city has?" Party asked. "It's fun, but I wouldn't call it 'nice.'"

Ghoul sniffed as he shook his head. "Nah. Bein' a part of somethin'. Bein' believed in by people who don't even know ya. That was nice."

The three of them stood in the empty silence, as strangers rather than people who had shared a living space for three months. They had taken the desert by storm in the short time they had known each other, becoming heroes to some, thugs to others, and nothing but trouble to BL/Ind. But regardless, everyone from here to Battery City knew who they were. The strange thing was they hardly knew themselves. And now they'd never know.

"Alright, Kobra, I'm gonna pack up," Party said with a shrug when he knew their talk was over. "Say g'bye and stuff." And he strode to their room, leaving Kobra and Ghoul behind him. 

The room that he and Kobra shared in the diner was cooler than their two bedrooms combined in their family's apartment in Battery City. The walls were spray-painted with designs by Party, and he had been planning on doing the ceiling too once he could get his hands on more spray paint. Now that he knew Ghoul's secret, he could have asked him to nab him some. But now they were splitting up, and this room would become a hideout for the next Zoner who claimed it. The thought of that made Party's frown, his nose wrinkling into another stink face, even though no one was there to witness it. He should have written his and Kobra's names on the wall. Too bad he was out of paint. But he supposed it didn't matter now anyway. 

By the mattress he slept on was his backpack. It was identical to Kobra's: faded and black and filled with memories from a much crappier life. Metaphoric memories, because on the inside the bag was almost empty. Party hadn't taken much with him when they ran. Just a few days' worth of food, bottled water, and a blanket to keep him and Kobra warm. There was very little about Battery City he wanted to remember, so he used his bag's space to be practical, not sentimental. He had since given the blanket to Kobra, and now the only object from the city he still owned was the backpack itself. 

He went around the room, picking up objects he had scattered around- Party Poison had not become renowned across the desert for his tidiness- and filled the backpack with new memories. It wasn't a lot, but hadn't owned this much since arriving at the diner. On the run for a year, he and Kobra had lived as minimally as possible. Now that he had a home base, he had allowed himself to pick up new jackets and bandanas just because he thought they were cool, or magazines just because he wanted to read them. 

He shoved it all away into his old black backpack, then picked up the most important item he owned: his mask. He had started covering his face with sunglasses and an old cloth bandana when he Kobra began fighting back against any dracs that invaded the Zones. It was their way of sticking their middle fingers at Korse, to let him and all of BL/Ind know that weren't a part of their big machine. By the time he painted the mask, he knew who he was supposed to be. When the mask went on, he became Party Poison. 

Meeting Ghoul and Jet was kind of an accident. They had come across Jet during a run-in with his old gang of desert thugs. Jet clocked Party between the eyes, and long story short he ended up in the Trans Am, giving Party directions to the best outpost to find clean water for a dehydrated Kobra Kid. Meeting Ghoul was even more spontaneous. The three of them were at a pop-up Zone market days later, and Ghoul was getting his ass kicked by some trader- probably for stealing, Party now realized- and he and Jet pulled him out of the commotion he had created. Instead of going their separate ways, Ghoul decided he would be following them at their heels like a lost puppy. They became an inadvertent foursome, connecting over their shared hatred of BL/Ind, their thirst for adventure and thrills, and the fact that they had nobody else to connect with. They became the Fabulous Killjoys. It had been three months to remember; chaotic and risky with a lot of fighting, both with dracs and with each other, but very memorable. 

Outside, Party could hear Kobra and Ghoul speaking in hushed voices. He went still, straining his ear to pick up their words.

"An' yer sure yer not mad at me?"

"Course not, Ghoul. You're my friend, and that's more important than a stupid pin."

_A stupid pin._

"Yer... yer a really good kid, y'know that, Kobra?" Ghoul said with a smile Party could hear in his voice. "Gonna miss ya a lot."

"I'll miss you too. I've never had a best friend before. Wait-" Kobra cut himself off, and somehow, even without seeing what he was doing, Party knew he was fastening the blue pin to Ghoul's jacket. 

"There," Kobra said. "Now you'll have something to remember me by."

When he dared to crack open the door, he caught them hugging. The only person he had ever willingly hugged was Party himself. What had _happened_ to Kobra these last few months?

Ducking his head, he tried to keep himself invisible as he treaded down the hallway, past the dining area and to Jet's bunk. He gave a nearly silent knock, deciding he would wait three seconds and if there was no answer he would walk away.

_One._

_Two._

The doorknob clicked, and the door creaked open.

"Party?"

Crap. 

"Hey," Party decided on. "Just wanted to let you know that Kobra an' I are heading out. Like, for good."

"I heard," Jet said. He sounded resigned, almost apathetic about the whole thing. "Good luck out there. Witch be with you"

Party shifted on the balls of his feet. "Thanks. And, uh, Ghoul's leaving too. Just thought I'd letcha know."

"Thanks for the heads-up."

He was perfectly okay with this. Party hated him for it. He knew they hadn't known each other that long, but Party also knew what a sentimental bitch Jet was. He felt like he deserved a little more of a reaction than _this._ "Okay, hold up," Party said. "Where's the lecture?"

"Party, I'm done with lectures," Jet said with a sigh. "And you said it yourself: we're not a crew. I think we all knew this wasn't gonna be a permanent situation. So it's good you guys are all moving on."

"Yeah, well Kobra doesn't _wanna_ move on," Party blurted out. "He... he thinks this is a home or something. I dunno what to tell 'im."

"What do you _want_ to tell him?" Jet inquired, leaning against the door frame. 

Party ran a hand through his hair. "I mean- it's not! Keeps us outta the desert at night, but we don't have a home! We're never gonna have one!"

"What makes you so sure?"

"He still thinks there's _good_ in the desert," Party said with a hopeless sigh. "I don't know how much bad he's gotta see before he learns the truth." He bounced on the balls of his feet; he was impulsive, and his energy needed to go somewhere. He didn't even know why he was telling Jet all of this, but for once he was at a loss of how to take care of his younger brother. "I saw 'im hugging Ghoul. He _hates_ hugging."

"That's good."

"No! _Not_ good!" Party snapped. "He's getting attached! We're not supposed to get attached to stuff!"

His voice was gruff, but his eyes were wide, the tips of his fingers drumming the gun holstered to his leg. This wasn't just Party being grumpy, complaining as he always did. This was distress. And for that reason Jet made sure to sound gentle and understanding when he asked, "And why is that, Party?" 

"Because! You're not supposed to get attached to anything out here! ' _Specially_ me and Kobra. Everybody wants something from you- and if you let them know too much, they'll take it! I don't see how Kobra doesn't understand that by now! All we got is each other, and that's all we're ever gonna have. It's safer that way!"

When Party finished, Jet just stared at him. Party stared back, realizing with shame what he had just let out. That's when Jet realized it wasn't _Kobra_ who could only trust his brother, who wasn't supposed to let other people in. Who kept his distance and kept running because it guaranteed a life without hurt for him and the one person he cared about.

"Party," Jet finally started when he found the right words. "I want you to know that Ghoul and I, we would never hurt Kobra. _Or_ you." 

Party's downcast eyes flickered up at those last two words, but he quickly his gaze by running his hand through his hair again. 

"When we had that first clap together, we became the Killjoys. From then on, I knew I would protect and support each and every one of you."

From behind his forearm that shielded his face, Party shook his head. "You're too damn perfect, Jet. Stop being so nice." 

Jet gave a half-grin. "Sorry. That's just how I am."

"Well, I hate it. I _torture_ you, why can't you just torture me back like a normal person?"

"Because I don't do that to my friends." Smile fading, Jet dropped his eyes. "Look, this is new to me, too. Having a crew."

"What about your gang?"

That was different," Jet said with a shrug. "Nobody was really your friend, everyone took care of themselves. You stepped in to help where you weren't wanted... you regretted it pretty quick." He was silent, eyes trained on the ground as if he could see something Party did not before he continued. "Meeting you and Kobra was a great thing for me. I liked helping you guys out. I like taking care of people."

"Yeah, after you punched me in the face."

"Because I don't like getting punched in my _own_ face. Also you started it." 

Party chuckled at that, and Jet joined him. He was seeing a whole new side of his hot-headed crew mate- vulnerable, fearful side he didn't know existed. 

"I'm Ray."

Party's eyes shot up.

"That's my name. Ray Toro."

It was impulsive, but Jet didn't regret it. If he showed Party that he trusted him with something so valuable, maybe Party would see it was okay to trust him back.

Definitely, it did _something_ within Party. He went stiff and alert, unsure of what to do with this knowledge. 

"You don't have to tell me yours. I just thought it was time to share mine."

What Party said next was low and quiet. Jet didn't even know Party could _be_ so quiet. But he heard it just the same: 

"Well, I'm Gerard."

Ray smiled. "Nice to meet you, Gerard."

"Yeah, but we keep this between _us,_ yeah?" Party said, suddenly gruff again. "I won't share yours, and you won't share mine. Yeah?"

"Of course," Jet said. Who was Jet going to tell? That's when he realized: Jet was allowed to know Party's true identity, but Ghoul was not. Oh well, one step at a time. Those two would come to understand each other someday. "I promise. Your secret is safe with me."

Party nodded, grunting under his breath. "Good."

Sudden sounds of pounding and crashing caused Party to jump, startled. As he and Jet hurried to investigate the noise, he heard growing sounds of laughter at the end of the hallway. What met them in the dining area was Ghoul and Kobra running about like children, climbing on the booths and leaping off the counter as they chased each other around. Kobra was giggling breathlessly, and Ghoul had a wolfish grin across his face. Party hadn't seen Kobra act like a child- act his _age_ \- in a very long time, and Ghoul was clearly having the time of his life. But the fun came to a screeching halt when they noticed Party standing there with Jet. 

"S-sorry," Kobra murmured, his head down like he caught in the middle of a crime. "I'm ready to go now." 

Shifting from foot to foot, Party shook his head. "Actually... I think we'll stick around here for a while. That party's gonna be full of losers anyway. You okay with staying here?"

Slowly, as he took his brother's words in, Kobra began to beam. "Yeah. I'm okay with it."

"I dunno, Party," Ghoul said suddenly, walking up from behind Kobra and propping his elbow on his shoulder. Now Party could see that Kobra did, in fact, give Ghoul his pin, and it was glimmering prominently on the collar of his jacket. "Are _you_ gonna be okay with it? I mean, you'll hafta spend _another_ night with _me_ as yer roomie! How're ya gonna survive?"

Each word was dripping with biting, bitter sarcasm, festering like acid. It caught Party off guard- this was more than Ghoul's typical snarky comment. This was the growl of a cornered dog. Ghoul was threatened and angry, and now he was snapping his jaws. That's when Party understood why Ghoul went after him so much. The reason was pretty obvious, actually: it was that Party never much of an effort to befriend Ghoul, and Ghoul could sense Party's hostility towards him. 

"I'll survive just fine, Ghoul," Party said, his voice tethered and even. If he was going to be Kobra's best friend, Party needed to make a habit of at least being civil to Ghoul.

"Not scared I'm gonna rob ya blind?" Ghoul insinuated. His voice and expression were cold and challenging, but when he spat the words out he rubbed his nose again. That's when Party realized he and Ghoul had a similar habit of hiding their faces when feeling vulnerable. 

"Nah. But I need new spray paints. Can you get me some next time you're out?"

First blinking in surprise, Ghoul broke into a smile, nodding his head. "Yeah. I'll get real good ones."

Party gave Ghoul a short nod, and like puppies he and Kobra picked their little game of tag up right where they left it. 

"I think this is cause for celebration," Jet said, leaning close to Party so he could murmur in his ear."I say we break out some of the coffee we picked up at the last trade."

Nudging Jet's shoulder with his, Party said in just as conspiratorial a whisper, "Sounds good. But don't let 'em catch you- they're crazy enough without it." 

"Perfect. More for us, then." 

Jet strode off to the kitchen, and Party was left to watch Kobra and Ghoul continue to roughhouse. He chuckled to himself; he couldn't remember the last time his little brother looked that happy. If this place and these people were enough to give him that, then it was worth the doubt that burned in the back of his mind. If he got any bad feelings, Party would have Kobra back on the road faster than lightning, but he could handle tonight. He could handle "a while," just like he had promised him. 

The laughter of Ghoul and Kobra beyond the kitchen warmed Jet's heart, and when he heard Party bellowing cheers and boos, he smiled. Laughter was a strange sound out in the Zones; people didn't smile much, and they laughed even less. But they weren't like most Zoners, that was for sure. Maybe that was why people put their hope in them, trusting and depending on the Fabulous Killjoys to take down Better Living Industries and bring peace to Battery City. That was why they needed to stay together. As selfish as Jet could be to say he actually wanted a real family for once, he knew this wasn't about him and his wants. They _needed_ to be a team, because the four of them had the potential to spark something really amazing. 

If he was the most empathetic, the most emotionally healthy of the group, the responsibility fell to him to help everyone grow into themselves and grow as a team. A big task for an ex-gang member who wasn't even out his teens, and he certainly had a lot to learn. Perhaps the sharing circle wasn't the best strategy, but he did get some real results. He would keep trying, keep finding new ways to help them because he knew right then, as loud and annoying and exasperating they all could be, there was nothing he wouldn't do for them. Because he cared about each of them, and he cared about the world they lived in.

Jet didn't know if empathy was meant to last in the Zones, but he was ready to die with it.


End file.
